


Shape Of You

by misato



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, As it should be, Booty Calls, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Getting Together, M/M, Porn with Feelings, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9966848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: If Yuuri didn’t know any better, he’d think it was a booty call.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written anything in a long time so here u go

Yuuri still isn’t used to living in Viktor’s apartment. He moved in two weeks ago, after a whole lot of begging (because  _ honestly _ , who could say no to Viktor?)

But even though the flirting has gotten a little more overt (they’ve worked their way up to spooning on the couch while they watch TV), they’re still not officially together, and so Yuuri sleeps in the guest bedroom.

It’s a  _ nice  _ guest bedroom, of course. It has a huge bed with at least five pillows on it and a large bathtub in the bathroom and selfie lighting to die for, but Yuuri’s never been one for lavish decor. He’d much rather have Viktor’s arms around him at night, holding him close as they fall asleep. He’d much rather wake up with Viktor hard against his hip, sleepily kissing over his neck and-

His phone buzzes with a text tone.

The message is from Viktor, who recently set his own name in Yuuri’s contact list to a series of sparkly heart emojis around the word “bae,” which seems to be his favorite English word at the moment.

_ ‘come to my room yuuri i’m lonely _

If Yuuri didn’t know any better, he’d think it was a booty call. He’s definitely been hit on this way while living in Detroit; guys would ask him to hang out and then would act surprised when he didn’t want to hook up. But Viktor…he probably wants to show Yuuri a confusing Russian meme again, or play him some awful song that he’s considering for a program, or literally anything but have sex. 

It’s not as if Viktor doesn't spend more time talking about sex more than he spends time breathing, but he seems to think that Yuuri is completely against having it with him. He’s kind of stupid sometimes, which isn’t something you should think about your sort-of-kind-of fiance, but Viktor really is oblivious as all get out. He wraps himself all over Yuuri and gets confused when Yuuri wriggles away. Maybe he thinks Yuuri dislikes being touched, but really, it’s because Yuuri loves it. Since he met Viktor, he’s started jacking off way more, which isn’t exactly a bad thing, but the sexual frustration just won’t go away.

Maybe that’s why Yuuri doesn’t bother putting a shirt and pants on before trudging down the hall to Viktor’s room, just in his boxers. It’s kind of cold, but he’s gotten used to the fact that Russia is freezing. He knocks on the door and when Viktor doesn’t answer, he opens it gingerly.

What he sees is not what he expected.

Viktor is curled into the sheets, face crumpled, choking back tears.

“Yuuri,” he says, sitting up and smiling weakly as tears drip from his face onto the white sheets. “I missed you.”

Yuuri feels like he’s swallowed chalkdust; he can barely get words out in response.

“Um,” he says. “Are you okay?”

That’s a stupid question, because he clearly isn’t, and Viktor shakes his head, his hair falling into his eyes.

“Yuuri, come here.”

Yuuri sits gingerly at the foot of the bed, criss-cross-applesauce in his underwear and nothing else.

“No, I mean…” Viktor gestures to the space beside him. “Really, come here. Please.”

Yuuri slides beneath the sheets, grateful for the warmth. Slowly, he wraps his arms tentatively around Viktor and lets him cry into his shoulder.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says. “I love you.”

“Don’t say that,” Yuuri breathes, his words coming out fearful and soft.

“No homo?” Viktor says, a laugh turning into a sob.

“Viktor, I’m serious. Don’t say it unless you mean it.”

“I do mean it, honestly. I’ll say it in three languages if you want. I love you, Yuuri.”

“Why?” Yuuri says, and it’s not a challenge, it’s more like he can’t actually believe anyone would ever say those words to him. “Why me?”

“You’re perfect, Yuuri,” Viktor says earnestly.

“I’m not,” Yuuri says, and kisses him.

Their lips slot together and Yuuri feels like he’s melting; if he was cold before, Viktor is nothing but pure heat sliding against him. He’s glad he didn’t put on clothes before he came in, because all he can feel is warm skin against warm skin, soft mouths against soft mouths, and then the two blur together. Viktor’s kissing over his neck, murmuring things in Russian that Yuuri hasn’t learned, but  _ oh _ , he wants to.

“Yuuri, is this okay?” Viktor says.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Yuuri says. “I love you, Viktor. I love you, I love yo-”

The word twists into a moan as Viktor presses one hand to his erection, palming it softly through the fabric of his boxers.

“What do you want to do?” Viktor breathes into his ear, and Yuuri whimpers.

“I’ve been wanting you to fuck me since forever,” he manages.

“Oh,” Viktor says. “Oh,  _ yes _ .”

“Do you have...”

“Condoms? Lube?” Viktor supplies helpfully. “The dresser.”

Yuuri rolls over, fumbling for the drawer. and pulls out both, tossing them onto the bed.

“How often do you finger yourself, Yuuri?” Viktor says brightly, and Yuuri flushes all over.

“A lot,” he confesses.

“Show me what you like,” Viktor says handing him the lube.

Yuuri’s never been one for putting on a show during sex, but he tugs off his boxers slowly, showing off his cock, stroking it a little. He feels the Eros pumping through his veins as he spreads his legs, ever-so-flexible, and presses two slick fingers bravely against his hole.

“I have a vibrator,” he says, confident, and Viktor raises his eyebrows. “But I don’t want to go get it, I want to stay here with you.”

“Fuck,” Viktor whispers.

“I know that…” he trails off into a gasp, adding a third finger. “I know that you can fill me up.”

Viktor watches intently as Yuuri scissors his fingers, stretching himself. He doesn’t need much preparation, and it’s not like he’s a virgin; despite never having a serious boyfriend, he’s hooked up with several people.

“I’m ready,” Yuuri says, pulling his fingers out and wincing at the loss of sensation.

Viktor wasn’t even wearing anything in the first place, and he pulls Yuuri close, pressing him gently onto his back so that he hovers over him. He rolls the condom on before leaning in and kissing Yuuri. His cock gently rubs against Yuuri’s sensitive hole and he gasps.

“Please, Viktor,” he says, blushing.

Viktor presses in slowly, painstakingly so, and Yuuri can feel every inch of his cock, every brush of their lips together, every breath and every movement. They move together beautifully, like they’re skating a choreographed program; every second of it seems  _ right _ . 

“Can I go faster?” Viktor gasps.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, his voice soft, but when Viktor slams against his prostate, he nearly screams.

He’s a mess of gasps and whimpers as Viktor takes him apart; he’s never felt anything so good in his life. Maybe it’s the waiting that did it to him; he’d been wanting Viktor for so long that every single small touch led up to this. He remembers the way he’d furtively jack off in bathroom stalls to the thought of Viktor whenever he got too worked up in public, the way he’d smother his moans when he got off in their apartment in case Viktor heard a single sound. There’s no need to hold back anymore, not now.

“I love you,” Yuuri says, and he comes.

His stamina is usually good enough that he never comes first, but Viktor follows him by a few moments.

“I love you too,” Viktor says, and he can’t stop smiling despite the tear tracks that streak his face.

Yuuri smiles back.

“Viktor,” he says, after they’ve cleaned up, and they’re lying in bed together, sated.

“What?”

“Was that a booty call?”

“I mean…” Viktor says. “I guess, technically.”

“Oh my God,” Yuuri says, laughing. “You’re such a…”

The next day, Yuuri changes Viktor’s name in his phone’s contact list to “fuckboy.” He keeps the sparkly heart emojis.


End file.
